


Crossing the Line

by Green



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-15
Updated: 2011-07-15
Packaged: 2017-10-21 10:26:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/224151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Green/pseuds/Green
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fear leads to anger, anger leads to...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crossing the Line

Kirk gets shot in the chest, not two inches away from his heart, and is beamed directly to sickbay.

McCoy doesn't panic. He's done this plenty of times. He repairs the damaged tissue and stays silent. He knows this is strange behavior, but he couldn't care less. This is the fourth mission in a row that's left Kirk injured.

 _Two inches_ , he thinks. Just two measly inches away from death. Kirk doesn't sweat it, doesn't seem scared, just looks up at McCoy and says, "Fix me up, Bones."

Still, McCoy says nothing. He notices, in a vague sort of way, that he's shaking with rage. _Not good to have shaking hands when you're a goddamned doctor_ , his mental voice reminds him. This steadies him enough to finish, but then he's standing still beside Kirk and doing a hell of a lot of nothing.

"Bones?" Kirk says. Asks, in his own way, just what the hell is wrong.

 _Two inches_.

The sound that comes out of his mouth is nothing short of a _snarl_. He grabs Kirk by the wrist, pulls him up off the cot, and drags him into his office. He doesn't know what he's doing until they're there, standing in front of each other, and he's _panting_ with anger.

"Bones?" Kirk says again, this time softer. "It wasn't that bad."

"The hell it wasn't," McCoy says, putting his hands on Kirk's shoulders and pushing him towards the desk. Kirk stops when his ass hits it and he sits, looking bewildered. It's enough to make McCoy even angrier.

"Do you know how many times I've had to patch you up in the last _month_?" he says. It's a rhetorical question, and so help him, if Kirk tries to answer he's going to punch him.

Kirk doesn't say anything, just stares at him.

"You-" McCoy says, getting closer, pushing more, and then his rage gets the better of him and he slams his mouth against Kirk's with a clash of teeth and tongue.

Kirk goes absolutely still, then wraps his arms around McCoy and kisses _back_.

"Sonofabitch," McCoy pants out, then kisses him even harder. He can taste blood -- he's bitten Kirk's lips -- but he doesn't care. He wants to do something to make sure Kirk is still with him.

"I'm alive," Kirk says, and arches beneath McCoy's hands. "It's okay."

 _Alive_ , yes. Fully alive and hard against his hip, so McCoy shifts and brings them together, cock to cock through the thin material of their uniforms. Kirk groans and bucks against him.

"I could kill you myself," McCoy says against Kirk's mouth, sloppy and surreal. "Reckless bastard."

Then they are straining against each other, grinding and panting, and McCoy tightens his hold. His fingers will leave bruises, but he doesn't care. He only wants to feel Kirk give way under him, to show him... something. Something.

"Bones," Kirk whispers, and if it was a little louder it would be a whimper. He sounds fragile on the edge of his orgasm.

"C'mon, Jim. C'mon," McCoy whispers back, pushing harder.

"Oh my God, oh my God, _yes_ ," Kirk says and bucks against him once more and comes, shuddering against McCoy's body, holding on to his shoulders like he might fall down to his knees.

McCoy isn't so desperate that he'll come in his pants, not like Kirk, but seeing him like this tempers the anger and brings it down to a low simmer. "Okay," he says. "Okay."

"Fuck," Kirk gasps out, leaning back on the desk and loosening his hold on McCoy. "Since when..."

 _Since when do we do this?_ hangs in the air, and McCoy doesn't have an answer.

"It doesn't-" McCoy starts to say, then cuts himself off. It means something, he can't say it doesn't mean _anything_ , but he's confused enough to keep his mouth shut.

Kirk hears something else, though, and jerks back. McCoy can feel him pulling away in other ways, too. "It doesn't. Right."

"I didn't mean-"

"It's fine," Kirk says. "You got an extra uniform? I seem to have spilled something on mine."

McCoy can't help it. He laughs, nervous and pitched an octave too high, but it's a laugh and it makes something inside him loosen up. "In the closet," he says. "I'll leave you to it," because that's as good an excuse as any to get away from what's not being said here.

**Author's Note:**

> [podfic by reena_jenkins found here](http://reena-jenkins.dreamwidth.org/382814.html)


End file.
